Devestation
by Sybil Corvax
Summary: The Asian Wars. World War 3. A bomb dropped on Indonesia changes everything. New Alliances, bonds destruction, devastation. It's no different than what it was over a century ago. War is always the same, no matter what the date. AU for WW3
1. Prologue

**Okay, so this is just a little test run for an idea I've had milling in my head for a long time. I have most things worked out, so no worries on that. Though, it can use a little improvement, I'm sure, but I'm doing the best I can with it.**

**It's based off of an original story idea that I have based on similiar circumstances, so a show-up of the main heroine from that story is a definite must. Ah, all OOC circumstances are done on purpose - war is war, after all.**

**Everything will be explained in due time, if people are interested to see where I plan on taking this. **

**Ah, maybe I'll play with pairings later on, but the nations are in the middle of a war after all, so it's only a maybe. The entire story takes place in the future (clearly), but not far enough into it that what we consider modern technology isn't used. It gives me room to play with the creation of firearms and technology if I so choose, but not to the point where I have the world operating DEATH BEAMS from sattelites in space.**

_Review Please_

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**Prologue**

_July 23, 2035_

If Matthew were to be someone Arthur felt he could not turn to, then perhaps it would make everything all the more easy. However, that is not the case because let it be known that whenever England goes to war, Canada is by his side the moment he has the time – sometimes even sooner.

So, it is with extreme guilt that the elder nation and former empire peers at the exhausted former colony, stained in blood and grime, expression grim. Violet hued eyes are dulled, but somehow Canada – Matthew – stands up straight in uniform, turns his head and manages an encouraging smile.

He doesn't speak, but England – Arthur – doesn't need to _hear _the words in order to know what the blonde is saying. After all, despite popular belief, Arthur – England – knows Canada best and vice versa.

Smoke is heavy in the air – heavy and black. The only thing stronger than the smoke is the scent of blood. Blood from the bodies which surround both nations. Not a living soul is in the designated area , Arthur now realises. This thought causes bile to rise in his throat as he casts a fleeting glance to Matthew.

Long ago, the younger nation's glasses had been discarded. They were useless, he had said, as they were cracked and covered in blood; he was best off to rely on blurry vision than the lenses. Now, covered in mud, dirt, blood – England and Arthur alike wonder just how the North American country manages to stand and _smile _in this environment. It is only a momentary thought, however as England is quick to know the truth behind the smile.

"E- England...we should reunite with the others..."

Even as soft as it is, England can't say _no _to that voice. It's a force to be reckoned with and despite it's softness, it is _strong_. Canada has always been strong – perhaps not in the same way as other nations, but it is now that all qualities of his downplayed strength are shown.

Barely within weeks upon hearing of the bombing of Indonesia – by who, it isn't yet certain – Canada has gathered up a little over a quarter of a million soldiers. America isn't far behind, but that is hardly the point.

The moment England stepped in to fight alongside the newly formed Allies, Canada was there by his side; seemingly only waiting for his father-figure before making any kind of move. He knows England has more experience in war and isn't stupid. If anything, he is – alongside Germany and America – one of the main strategists.

"Of course, Canada."

No, Canada isn't stupid. He wouldn't have gotten involved if he had known the cause was useless. He would have pulled a Switzerland and remained neutral, but that isn't the case. Canada weighed the odds – the nuclear weapons – he knows how well this will pan out. He knows the losses will be great – as does England. Those who don't know the risks of war are stupid and not experienced in this..._art_ – if one were to call it such.

Canada is young, but all the same, many wars have been fought in his lifetime. He played his part and continues to do so. Arthur may not have realised this in the past, but he sure as hell is realising it now as he watches the taller, younger nation stride ahead of him with ease.

"America may have gathered intelligence on Russia's situation by now, if we're lucky. We need to be quick. How is your arm?"

His...arm?

Briefly looking down, England clearly notes that he is indeed injured. Funny, he didn't even recall feeling any pain...

"Gah!"

Taken aback, the green eyed nation can only look on as Canada's hands, calloused from this Asian war, reach and take hold of the injured appendage. After a few more seconds of simply _staring_, the Canadian simply rips off an arm from his own uniform.

"What in the bloody blazes do you think you're doing?"

Though it's clear exactly _what _Canada is doing, England feels it best to exclaim and try to tug his arm away. Somehow, he's surprised by the brute strength – not unlike America's – that Canada shows. All the same, it is controlled and gentle. Matthew just holds him in place as he quickly and gently wraps the bleeding injury.

"Wrapping the wound."

"I bloody hell know that, you twat!"

"C'mon, England. We don't have time to lose. We're lucky right now, but we don't know how long until China sends in reinforcements to replace the ones lost."

Ah, that's right. England seems to have forgotten the entire reason they were standing in such a bloody mess to begin with. He's been much too distracted with Canada – Canada and the dead.

They had been sent in to survey for survivors of a bombing in Hiroshima with a small group of British and Canadian soldiers, only to be ambushed by a larger group of Asian fighters. On a not-so-surprisingly loud note of "retreat", Canada had sent the small squadron back. Most chose to stay and had they not, England would have sustained more injuries – and Canada would have as well. All the same, whatever human had been fighting in these city streets is now dead. Asian, British, and Canadian alike.

It was over quicker than either nation would have liked it to be, but there's no complaining about it now. The sting of their people's dying is something they have grown accustomed to.

They both know that there's only more to come, whether they say it out loud or not. Canada isn't so daft to think otherwise and England has been in enough wars to know better by now.

Nothing more is said as both nations make their own retreat, because – like it or not – nothing more can be said.

War is always the same, no matter _how _advanced in technology it is.


	2. Empty Pride

**Well, hello there dearies ~ A sign that I'm not dead, eh? :D**

**I've finally updated this with a little inspiration I've finally gotten from just reading XD But, oh, how it pains me D: The shortness of it, I mean, but that can't be helped. It just seems to work for the content of the chapter.**

**I have introduced my OC character who, if you haven't guessed, is human. And Nameless. But not genderless :) I'll be amused if you try to guess the gender (I can't remember if I stated this in my previous A/N in the prologue, but I'm too lazy to go look, xD)**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**

_Please Review_

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Chapter 1

_Empty Pride_

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I remember a specific someone from my teenage years – pale skin, red eyes, obnoxious and cocky grin. I remember being captivated by the ruby eyes, fair skin and silver hair because it isn't all that common and despite the grin he wore on his face, he seemed to have this air of defeat over him. He only seemed to deny it by grinning – as though it would change anything.

"Yo, Kid!"

His English was laced with some form of accent which sounded German to my ears, but I couldn't be entirely certain. His words were so clear though and I couldn't help, but feel embarrassed for being caught staring at him because it was so incredibly rude.

"Y- yes, Sir?"

"Don't sound so shy now! Get your ass over here! I've got something to tell you!"

He held an authoratative tone – one that dared me to not do what he asked. I could have easily just turned and walked away, or better- ran away, but I didn't. I made my way over to him and looked up, my eyes which were bright and still filled with youth meeting with the unusual ruby orbs of this strange individual.

He grinned wider and ruffled my hair, the copper locks drifting into my face. Then, he unceremoniously jabbed his index finger to the center of my chest where I wore the proud colours of my country on my sweater. Red and white – the name CANADA written out in some bold font across the bust.

"You be proud, got it? Be fucking proud."

And I blinked and he was gone – no trace of the strange man in sight. Though, really, I knew from that moment he would be one of those people you meet in life that you can't ever forget. I didn't know why at the time, but that was probably because I didn't know what he had meant.

But now, I stand tall, my eyes flickering over the remnants of the scene in Hiroshima. Bodiesare littered everywhere, blood, the smell of burning flesh from bullet wounds.

I had only been a teenager then – still with so much youth and what I thought was an understanding of the world. But now, now I know better. It's been well over a decade since I had listened to those man's words – words I assume were advice and words that I still don't really understand because they didn't seem to have any context to them at all.

My chest tightens and I ignore the urge to cry because even though it's been so long and I am no longer a child, I have never before been in the middle of a war and I have never before seen so many dead human beings. Besides, I am not trained in the art of combat.

I am nothing, but a mere translator who goes where I am told to go – who I am told to go with because I've never really been one to ignore authority. Besides, from what I've learned, listening authority might even save your life in the middle of a blood bath.

"There aren't any survivors, just as Kirkland and Williams depicted."

I knew as a teenager that life wasn't going to be easy in the future, but I also knew back then that if push came to shove, I would be willing to put myself in this position for the good of the world.

"What do we do now then, Sir?"

"The only thing we can do. Follow through with our orders. There might not be surivors in the earlier skirmish, but there might be some deeper into what remains of the city."

A city which has already seen too much war in history. Japan has it rough for choosing the side that it did. But, this is just too much. How can a country remain to stand when such cities get beat over and over again?

Even at my age, I can't possibly fathom it. But, maybe that's because I am from a country where fights such as this on my own turf are uncommon and rarely happen. There have been a couple of scuffles since the beginning of this war, but mostly between the citezins.

So I've heard.

I haven't been home in over a year.

I rely on letters from my wife to give me the updates. And the few times I can actually get the chance to call her and our son.

But those are the times I just want to speak of better times instead of what's happening.

That might be a little naïve of me.

But, I guess that it's in time of war and bloodshed and death that we can have the chance to find out who we really are. Even if we think we already know who we are, there's always more to learn.

And I'm learning that I'm quite the coward when faced with these types of situations.

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"We sent another squad out to investigate Hiroshima for possible survivors deeper in the city – since England and myself didn't get proper oppurtunity to actually do what we intended."

Matthew says it simply, eyes flickering from nation to nation before landing on Alfred. The United States of America nods before turning his attention to Arthur – the Brit is currently tending the injury he earlier received, but clearly is all ears.

"How many of them were there?"

"We didn't stick around to count them, you git." England grinds out in annoyance – Alfred's eyes flash, but he surprisingly says nothing and instead turns his attention to his pale little brother (who really isn't all that little, but Alfred still calls him Little Bro anyways).

"Kanada, you should sit down." Germany says as America opens his mouth and Canada blinks, lifts his blurry violet gaze and nods before taking an appropriate seat in between England and France – the two haven't said anything to one another in several hours.

The last time they spoke, they argued and Alfred ended up banging their heads together to get them to stop. It was unainimously decided then that perhaps it would be best to say nothing at all if all they would do is argue.

France and England, therefore, haven't said anything to each other since. But, it's predicted that they will eventually say something once more. Be it the start of another argument or not.

"How is Japan?" Matthew finally says, eyes focused up on Ludwig, who is quiet for several moments before sighing and turning his head.

"Kiku's sleeping it off. The initial bombing has injured him pretty badly." Alfred fills in for his brother, who nods and sighs, holding his head in his hands.

Canada has been getting some headaches lately.

Ludwig has been quiet – America is ticked off beyond belief and wants to do nothing more, than to march into China and rip down the government for starting another war because everyone knows that right now, this is the _last _thing they all needed.

Ludwig has been quiet though, for the last decade. Since the disappearance of Prussia. It could be said that he is still in mourning for the loss of his brother, but it's difficult to say. Matthew knows it hurts him though and can hardly imagine if he were to lose Alfred – but at times such as these, the nations try not to think so much on the hurt as they do on everything else.

"I'm going to go see him then." Matthew replies, standing up – he wobbles only slightly before steadying and placing a hand against the wall.

Alfred starts and gently places his hands on his brother's shoulders, shaking his head.

"Matt, you just need to relax and -"

"Don't tell me what to do, Alfred." The younger nation replies, tone clipped and eyes blank as they peer at his brother's face.

America starts for a moment, about to protest, and falls quiet as he nods and releases his brother, stepping off to the side.

"Do what you want then." He grumbles faintly.

They shouldn't argue more than they absolutely have to. And while it must be strange to see the older nation who is so incredibly stubborn to submit to the younger, supposedly weaker, Canada, even America knows when to keep his mouth shut.

Especially since the election of Gale Bornewoode: first female President of the United States of America.

It was a surprise to everyone when it happened, but now with the war it is old news and America's new Boss is working hard on keeping the nation on a slightly tighter leash in an attempt to teach him both manners and further discipline – while handling a war.

Her multi-tasking skills are incredible. Every nation agrees – well, apart from the ones who assume presidency is a job only intended for a man, but that's something else entirely.

"I intend to." Canada replies softly and not another word is said as he limps off towards the Asian nation's assigned room.

Francis finally decides to speak.

"Mathieu seems incredibly off, oui?"

Arthur twitches, but can't restrain himself.

"Of course he does, you hopeless twat! We're in the middle of a bloody war!"

"Don't start now!" Alfred snaps, eyes blaring; Ludwig nods in agreement.

"We will not tolerate another argument from the likes of you two."

France and England fall quiet.

Silence envelopes them all and deep inside, Alfred thinks that perhaps he should have let them argue.

It would have at least been an attempt to think of something different for a change.


End file.
